Luyện nghe bài hát No Equal

(Number One
Competition is none) -->

[ VERSE 1: ]
Niggas got me steamin, bout to my lid
Fuck around, and I proceed to blow your out, kid
(Boom!) Not to say I'm on a tip
But my hand stays on my gun, in case you some shit
Cause I been since way back when
Straight up and from the is how it's always been
Now niggas wanna test me
But all that tiggedy-tiggedy tongue-twistin shit impress me
It's just a phase, and you damn well
That you'll off in a minute, cause that shit don't sell
Funny how you think you could me, or outlast me
With that bullshit style, fallin fast, gee
See, I suggest you go back you came from
(Your mic, and my mic) Come on, play, son
See, the days of payin dues is
I'm a little fed up, and it's that I show ya
We battle one time, dead, no sequel
(Your mic, and my mic - come on yo, no equal) -->

You know we're one
Competition is

[ VERSE 2: Les ]
The wiggedy-wicked Psycho Les drops it like a
Steady back-breakin bitches with my dick
on the jim, sometimes I nut in em
St. Ides up their eyes, and I bend em
Down, while I'm flowin to nutty sound
Open up the knapsack, check out we found
H-h-horns, bass,
Beats get chopped in the Nut Shop, we waste time
Yo, I'm 'cold lampin' like
Floatin at the top while you're sick, and 'nothin can ya'
Just the Biz said
Remember - uugh! - I drop to be, what is it?
(The shizzit) to your mama
I bend girl like a comma
Due to Lambada, I I gotta
Stop, the bitch said, "(???)"
So I nutted, and I got out
(Boom!) No matter how hot you claim to be, you can't this
Nut, up? You wanna get eaten up like a hostess?
'Cup', 'cake', you my words are lethal
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)

[ 3: Fashion (Al' Tariq) ]
Every line I connect, my literature's
Per minute, per second, and yo, you reck-
On Fashion, cause by the way I'm rippin things
thinks I take a loss has hamstrings
Young dames, I shoot em and Jimmy to knock her
Sex with flex, best thing tends to lock up
Yeah, really bad ass, past you niggas
The chicks I stick shit with, I your figures
Triggers, I pull em no remorse for bodies
Fash pumps the hotties, pump with shoties
Shoot em up, bang-bang! targets rarely
Mics I touch up, I em daily
Barely another who can the cool Fash
Asses I kick in the ashes, trashes
So don't riff, cause I flow like the Nile, son
Tame is for Jane fame, I'm a wild one
I let loose the
Fierce force in me
Fash, sendin a blast to rap people
(Your mic, and my mic - on yo, no equal)